


Bubblegum Wine and Brigadiers (or, the Many Happenings of Drunk UNIT)

by livsagna



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Humor, UNIT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 03:41:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16255925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livsagna/pseuds/livsagna
Summary: In which the Doctor possesses large quantities of alien wine, Mike Yates lets him do what he likes, and the Master is the Master even when he isn't around.





	Bubblegum Wine and Brigadiers (or, the Many Happenings of Drunk UNIT)

The first time it happened, Mike had been asked to stay late yet again by the Brigadier, because the usual night guard had been grazed by some sort of alien weapon and was in the hospital, the poor chap. His main job was to make sure no one wandered in, but since there was a great big KEEP OUT sign outside that the Brigadier put quite a bit of trust in, he figured that was taken care of. So he went onto his secondary task: prevent the Doctor from blowing up yet another lab.

Whistling to seem inconspicuous, Mike passed by the door to the Doctor’s lab for a third time, pausing to peer inside. There was no sign of the Doctor, so he was either inside his TARDIS or right next to the door.

Evidently it was the latter, which Mike discovered when the Doctor popped out with a cheerful, “Yoohoo! Captain Yates!”

Mike, of course, winced, as it was 2 AM and the Doctor was, as usual, rather loud. “Keep quiet, will you? The Brigadier might hear, and he’s already in a pretty nasty mood due to that funny business with the Master. What are you doing up this late, anyway?”

The Doctor waved a bottle of wine in front of Mike. Hang on, was it glowing? Alright, alien wine. Mike supposed that wasn’t the weirdest thing the Doctor had shown him. “Fancy a drink?” the Doctor asked jovially.

Mike pondered this. He couldn’t, but he also knew the Doctor was rather stubborn. “Doc, I’m on duty. I can’t. And besides, the Brigadier—”

“Will never know,” cut in the Doctor. “It’ll be our little secret.”

Mike looked around the barren hallway. “Oh, alright. But just this once,” he added, seeing the Doctor get that plotting look he often had.

The Doctor let him inside, peered both ways down the hallway, then quickly shut the door. He then ran to tell Mike to put down the piece of equipment he had just picked up and was now examining. “That is a very delicate—Oh, well, it doesn’t matter what it’s called, does it? You wouldn’t understand, anyway. It’s times like this I miss Liz… I wonder if I could convince the Brigadier to bribe her to come back? Yes, that is an excellent idea, let’s do that. After you.” He gestured back towards the door he had just closed.

“Doctor, Jo is perfectly capable,” began Mike.

“Yes, yes, she is. But I miss having a _scientist_ around! A proper one, not just someone I’m training to actually think for once.” The Doctor took a sip from a nearly empty glass of wine. “Would you like some?” he asked, taking out another glass.

“If it’s all the same to you, Doc, I think I’d prefer something that isn’t glowing?”

“Naturally. You humans are rather close-minded. I think in the TARDIS I have a… I’ll go check.” He ducked through the doors of the blue police box in the corner of his lab, and returned a few minutes later with a bottle of red wine that appeared to be completely normal to Mike, who had made himself as comfortable as he could in the Doctor’s absence. “Yes, I think this should do nicely.” He poured Mike a glass.

An hour and several glasses later, Mike’s tongue had loosened quite a bit, as had his tie. “So the Brigadier was in there, and—”

As if he had been conjured, the Brigadier appeared in the doorway. “Now. Which of you would like to explain what is going on?”

The Doctor smiled. “Ah. Lethbridge-Stewart. Nice of you to join us.” The Brigadier was not amused.

* * *

The second time it happened, Jo suggested they invite the Brigadier, too. “I don’t think he’d like this alien wine stuff, though,” she mused, looking at the blue liquid. “What planet did you say it was from, again?”

“I didn’t,” said the Doctor, completely ignoring Jo’s other point.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Jo,” contested Mike. “Last time I did this he walked in and was _very_ disappointed.”

“Well maybe he just wanted to be included, did you think of that?” Jo protested. “And Doctor, I’m sure it would ruffle him a little…”

That did it for the Doctor, who beamed. “Jo. Why don’t we invite the Brigadier?”

Mike just sighed.

“That’s what I was saying—Oh, there’s no getting through to him.” Jo rolled her eyes. “Well, let’s go, then.”

“If you two don’t mind,” said Mike reasonably, “I think I’d rather wait here.”

“That’s alright!” said Jo cheerfully. “See you soon!” She skipped away. How she could manage to do that in heels, Mike had no idea. But the Doctor followed her, probably already coming up with a plan to annoy the Brigadier so much that he just _had_ to get drunk. And frankly, it would work.

And it seemed to Mike that it did, when the Brigadier slipped through the door, carrying his desk whiskey that he said was for emergencies. “Ah. Captain Yates.”

There was just enough pause after he said this for Mike to slip in a “Yes, Sir?”

“Do you reckon there’s anywhere to hide from that man’s infernal singing?” And indeed the singing was infernal, and Mike could hear a few operatic notes drifting down the hallway. “Hurry, man, he’s getting closer!”

Mike weighed his options. “I don’t know about hiding,” he said carefully, “but I do think a few more drinks might make the singing more bearable.”

* * *

“Never again,” the Brigadier had vowed the day after, when he had to fight the Master—with a sword, no less!—with a raging hangover, while the Doctor seemed entirely unaffected, and was singing far too loudly as he disabled the Master’s bomb.

Of course, ‘never’ was a relative term, and everyone always did say, never say never. So, it was no surprise to anyone but the Brigadier that he turned up at another one of these gatherings a few nights later.

“Sir!” Benton attempted a salute, but did so with the hand that had been holding his drink, and sloshed a vivid purple liquid smelling vaguely of bubblegum over one of the Doctor’s experiments.

“Benton!” roared the Doctor, immediately rushing to cradle his ruined experiment. Benton debated making a run for it, but the Doctor exclaimed, “Oh! Actually, thank you, Sergeant. That gave it just the kick it needed…” He started fiddling with whatever it was.

“Is your first name Sergeant?” asked Jo. “It’s just, I’ve never heard you have a name. Just Sergeant. Or Benton. Or Sergeant Benton. Or Sarge. Or—”

Benton cut her off. “Of course my first name isn’t Sergeant, Miss! My parents weren’t _that_ weird. I mean, they really liked candles, but that’s it.”

“Well then what is it?” Jo was curious, and determined. Not just about Benton’s first name, that was just her approach to life. She wanted to know, so she would.

“Sergeant,” said Mike.

“Yes, Sir?” Benton responded instinctively.

“No, I meant, your name. It’s Sergeant.” Mike clarified.

“I believe we just established it isn’t,” the Brigadier replied dryly. When Mike shot him a look, he raised an eyebrow and sipped his whiskey in a way that conveyed he was just a casual observer, nothing more.

“I mean,” Mike went on, “it should be.” After receiving perplexed looks from everyone around him, except the Doctor, who was now examining the alien wine, he continued, “You should change it. On the papers, and stuff. Since it’s all anyone ever calls you. Do you even remember your actual name?”

“Of course I remember it!” shouted Benton.

“Well,” Jo said simply, “then what is it?”

“No,” Benton told her stubbornly.

“No?” asked the Doctor, who was suddenly interested. “Never met a person called No. I did meet someone called Yes, or I will have at some point. It all gets rather confusing once you’ve had a bit to drink, doesn’t it?”

“My name isn’t No,” argued Benton.

“You just said it was,” pointed out the Brigadier. “And, really, No is a terrible name. I agree with Mike, you should just be Sergeant Benton.”

“Yeah!” chimed Jo. Benton took a rather large sip of alien wine. It seemed this would be a long night, and he wasn’t altogether sure he’d like to see how it would end.

* * *

The Brigadier really should have stopped going to the Doctor’s gatherings while he was ahead. But he didn’t, and he woke up with a raging headache and a clean face. Too clean.

“Miss Grant?” the Brigadier said into the phone mere minutes later. “I need you to come over to my house. And bring a mustache…”

Meanwhile, at UNIT HQ, Mike was asking Benton if he had seen the Brigadier. “No,” replied the Sergeant, “I set his coffee on his desk. Figured he was in a meeting or something, but if it got cold that’s not my problem. Why, has something happened?”

“Word is, no one’s seen him since last night. I know I certainly haven’t,” Mike said. “Well, not since around 4:30, at least. But I can’t really remember that—the Doc gave us the strong stuff last night, didn’t he? I wonder what happened. Hope he’s okay…” Benton nodded his agreement.

Jo showed up at the Brigadier’s house far too soon, and she was far too chipper. “I brought what you requested,” she announced to the house, “but I don’t know why—Oh.” She took in the sight of the Brigadier without a mustache. “Oh! Did Mike do this last night? Looks like I missed a lot! Wow! Also, I let myself in, hope you don’t mind I picked your lock!”

The Brigadier just stared at her. “Don’t breathe a word of this to anyone,” he finally said.

Jo flashed a dazzling smile at him. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Now, would you like help, or—”

“I can manage,” the Brigadier said, and he carefully stuck the fake mustache to his face. “How does it look? Balanced? I don’t want the Doctor getting any ideas…”

“Perfect!” Jo said, jumping for joy. “Now we can get you to work. Oh, but don’t mind the gardens—I borrowed Bessie, and your hydrangeas got in the way.”

The Brigadier let out a long-suffering sigh. His new mustache flopped over, so he sighed a bit more. This would certainly be a tough day. And, he supposed, marked the last time he would ever stop by the Doctor’s lab at night.

* * *

Of course, the Brigadier supposed wrong. He waited until his mustache had fully grown back, as a precaution—his secret had been well guarded, or so he thought, and he didn’t want any of his men finding out. Of course, they already all knew, but he didn’t know that and probably never would.

This night it was just him and the Doctor, so he figured it would be relatively safe. But boy, was he wrong.

Firstly, the alien wine provided by the doctor this time was from a company called Astrem. The Doctor said he’d never had their wine before, but it was rumored to be… Well, the Brigadier assumed he was going to say “good,” but the poison was rather fast-acting. Thankfully, its antidote was supplied by a helpfully exploding experiment of the Doctor’s that set the lab on fire.

Secondly, the lab was on fire. They tried to put it out with liquid, but the only liquid at hand was alcoholic, and alcohol is flammable. Thankfully, there were plenty of fire extinguishers around, and the Brigadier was quick to remember that a fire extinguisher extinguished fire.

By then, he very decidedly needed another drink.He had realized, by now, that the Doctor was the main reason he drank. Maybe next time, when Benton and Yates were there, they’d play a drinking game where they drank every time the Doctor was an idiot. On second thought, the Brigadier supposed as he watched the Doctor attempt to do a strange arm-dance to a Venusian lullaby that sounded suspiciously like God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen and certainly had the wrong beat, what on earth was he thinking? _Next time_? The Brigadier certainly would not be coming back!

At least, that’s what he thought right until he left. “See you next time, Bro-gadier,” the Doctor said as if it were an assured fact of the Universe. And maybe, mused the Brigadier, it was.

* * *

Of course, the next time involved Mike’s pants, fireworks, and a bucket of water—well, the Brigadier assumed it was water, but with the Doctor you could never be sure—from the TARDIS, so really, the Brigadier was reconsidering his decision to attend these little parties. Because really, they could be classified as parties by now.

But as he sighed and watched as Jo wrestled a living alien hat onto the Doctor’s head, he realized he wouldn’t have it any other way. And, well, if Mike threw up on him during a meeting due to being so hungover… That was just how life was, with the Doctor around. Weird, and usually pretty disgusting. But an adventure. An adventure to the supply closet, sure, but an adventure nonetheless. And, technically, it turned out to be an alien adventure, because there was a slime monster living in their closet. But that was just another day for anyone who worked at UNIT. Aliens during the day, and alien wine at night. Usually, for some reason, smelling of bubblegum.

All in a day’s work, supposed the Brigadier. All in a day’s work.


End file.
